Stupid
by pressontoknow
Summary: Going on a date with Joe Cruz is possibly one of the most stupid decisions she's ever made. But Sylvie Brett is willing to risk it.


**I realize that it's still the very early stage of Joe and Sylvie's relationship, but I think they're so cute together! This is my idea of what their first date could have been like. Please review and let me know what you think!**

**I don't own Chicago Fire.**

Sylvie Brett had butterflies.

"Stupid," she chided softly as she stared at herself in the floor length mirror from where she sat on her bed, the erratic pounding of her heart seeming to affect her vision until she was convinced that she should have straightened her hair instead of curled it. And she should have used neutral eyeshadow instead of the one with the slightest hint of red that her sister said made her blue eyes pop. And she most certainly needed to change out of this ridiculous sky blue sundress with straps that were barely an inch across, wear something practical instead, like jeans and a t-shirt.

She'd never had a problem faking confidence when it came to guys, never had such shaky, sweaty hands that she had to reapply her eyeliner three times, never had to just sit and draw in shuddering breaths until it didn't feel like she was going to pass out.

But, she had to admit to herself, no first date had ever mattered as much as this one did.

She didn't have a lot of friends in Chicago. Work kept her busy so it was hard to find time to socialize. She'd met a few nice girls at the Zumba class and could see herself getting to know them better, but when it came to those she was close to, those she could actually talk to, she'd have to put Gabby, Pete, and Joe at the top of the list.

"Stupid," she whispered again, her head dropping down in despair as she wondered why on earth she was willing to risk one of those oh-so-special and rare friendships by going on a date with him.

Risk had never been something Sylvie was comfortable with. When she told her parents she wanted to be a doctor they'd warned her about the years spent in school and the necessity of perfect grades—she'd never been terribly bright when it came to math, had she?—so she'd switched to nursing. She hadn't dated much in college, wanting to instead focus on her career, but her mom had been worried she'd end up an old maid and homeless to boot—nursing didn't pay very much, did it?—so when she introduced her to Harrison shortly following her graduation, she'd agreed to go on a date with him. She wasn't too sure about him, certainly wasn't ready to marry him, but when she'd hesitated when he was down on one knee he'd reminded her that he was paying half her rent now—and besides that what would people say if she said no?—so she'd agreed.

She'd taken so many risks since she starred in her own personal version of runaway bride and moved away from everything and everyone she'd ever known. She'd risked living in a scary neighborhood so she could afford to finish her EMT courses, and she risked further by applying to actually use that certification because she had a hunch she would love this job even more than she loved nursing. She'd risked again by saying her final goodbyes to Harrison and finally standing up for herself against the jerk she'd always known he was.

She'd risked opening herself up to people again after having all her friends and family tell her she was crazy for going off on her own, so ready for her seemingly imminent failure. Gabby was such a strong, independent woman that, in comparison, Sylvie felt like an incompetent weakling. But she was improving, she told herself. She'd survived on her own for two years and things were just getting better. She was just getting happier.

Still, it was a whole other ballgame to open herself up to a man. She was quiet by nature and had always been easily intimidated, so the concept of a male friend was incredibly daunting and seemed unrealistic. They'd just leer, wouldn't they, like Harrison and all of his friends had? They'd just make crude jokes and make her feel stupid and weak, like her good looks and femininity automatically detracted from the potential of her brain.

God, the men she worked with had changed that idea. Never before had Sylvie felt so accepted as a _person_. She had a feeling that maybe a lot of that openness had come from them already being used to having Gabby around, but it was still a surprise. The men were all respectful and courteous and kind. They treated her professionally, but they also weren't afraid to tease and include her in the jokes and general ribbing that the whole house engaged in. They didn't leave her on the outskirts, waiting for her to prove herself so she could fit in; rather, she was part of their family the moment she walked through the door.

Naturally it was Pete to whom she had first become closest to, aside from Gabby. Pete was the one she drove around town with for hours at a time. She wasn't one for awkward silences and he was willing to talk once you cracked through his shell, so she got to know him pretty quickly. He was sweet, she had to admit, and if he didn't quite get all her jokes, at least they got along well enough that she could add another name to her very short list of friends.

Joe Cruz had blindsided her. They said hello at the fire house, even collaborated on a prank against Otis once, but he'd been what she would call, at most, a work buddy. Contact with him began and ended at the doors of the fire house. Sure, she thought he was nice and attractive and funny, but she was getting over the breakup of an engagement and certainly wasn't looking.

Sylvie had taken a few Zumba classes before and enjoyed them, so she thought she'd sign up for one when she had a night free, just to see how it was. Convinced she'd somehow stumbled into an alternate reality when she saw that _Cruz_ was the instructor, her mind was a bit foggy and she spoke to him perhaps a bit more honestly than she ever had before when he came to speak with her. The deal they'd struck obviously seemed to leave her at a loss, but she was lonely and missed the time when cooking had meant more than just filling her belly. Joe certainly needed the instruction and maybe this would open the pathway to her getting to know another person in her new hometown.

Given the relative difficulty she'd always faced in getting to know people and forcing herself to open up to them, Sylvie was surprised at how easy this was with Joe. Obviously it started with Zumba. She stayed a few minutes late to talk with him that first night, and after that it became routine with them until he was walking her to her car every night after class.

Cooking with him was simultaneously unexpectedly hilarious and unendingly frustrating. The man had a sense of humor that fit to hers like a puzzle piece and could make her laugh 'til she was wiping tears from her eyes. But he also had the tendency to shy away from admitting he didn't know something, so there were many times when she asked him if he understood what she was talking about in the kitchen and he said he did when in fact he had only ever heard the word "broil" before and didn't _really_ know what it actually meant. She threatened to give up on him before he finally agreed to complete honesty about his knowledge of this particular category.

The first time he showed up to her apartment, pizza and a movie in hand, she'd been taken by surprise. They'd been cooking together for two months now and she would definitely call him a friend, but surely he had better things to do with his Friday night than come and spend time with her. She put this to him quite bluntly and he just smiled awkwardly and shrugged, saying it was an off night and besides he remembered she said she wanted to see this movie and he didn't feel like watching it alone. They'd gorged themselves on pizza and beer and watched several horrendous car chases go down as she propped her feet up on the coffee table and painted her toenails, allowing him to ponderously consider several colors before finally decided on a hideous shade of green that she reluctantly applied. The movie ended up being so terrible that she was giddy with adrenaline and humor by the time it was over, and Joe made her laugh until she just about fell off the couch. He was dying laughing too, and she couldn't remember that last time she'd had so much fun.

She liked him, she admitted to herself, after their third consecutive Friday night together. She'd never laughed that hard or felt so comfortable with anyone, Harrison included. Not only that, but she made him laugh too. He made her feel smart and funny and like a person whose words and thoughts and feelings he valued. He wouldn't make her talk about a rough shift, but he didn't shy away from listening either. The few times she'd cried in front of him, he hadn't made her feel weak. The genuine caring he obviously felt for her meant more than she'd expected it would.

Yes, she had said no when he asked her out. It was too much to take in all at once—he felt the same way, and she certainly hadn't expected that, but at the same time he was one of her best friends here and she couldn't imagine not being comfortable around him, should things not work out. She'd come to rely on him, she supposed.

A day of silent pondering—so silent, in fact, that Pete had asked if she was alright—had allowed her to get her thoughts in order. Yes, it was a risk, but maybe it was a risk worth taking.

Part of her hoped he'd say no when she asked him out herself, just so she wouldn't have to take that risk, but the other part of her fluttered giddily at his shy, eager grin and the way his eyes seemed to devour her. Was she free Friday night, he asked.

Well, she always was for him, right?

So here she was, pretty blue dress she hoped he would like, eyeshadow that she hoped would make him notice her eyes, curls that she hoped were flirty and cute.

Hope was suddenly a terrifying emotion.

Sylvie let out a soft groan and ran a frustrated hand through her hair as she finally stood and gave herself a final onceover in the mirror. _Yes, you're nervous_, she told herself. _But you're also excited. If the way Joe was looking at you earlier today is any indication, he thinks you look nice enough with minimal makeup and wearing your uniform, so this is definitely a step up. And it's not as if he'll stop being your friend if you go on this date. You're just two friends seeing if you could be…more than friends_.

Maybe she would do something reckless, she considered as she tidied up her bedroom a bit, still having a few minutes before Joe was supposed to pick her up. Maybe she would just grab him and kiss away all this nervous tension.

Her stomach dropped at the thought and she decided to just attempt to get through the next few hours without doing anything stupid.

She just about jumped out of her skin when the knock sounded at the door. "God," she groaned, rushing around to grab her purse and her jacket and her phone before finally skidding to a halt at the door and heaving in a deep breath before calmly opening it.

"Hey," Joe said softly, the small smile on his face widening to a grin as his eyes were everywhere at once—skittering randomly over her hair and briefly meeting her eyes before dropping to the wide expanse of skin laid bare by her dress, a blush coloring his neck as his eyes settled on her own. "Man, Sylvie, you look beautiful."

She was blushing too from the way he'd drunk her in and her eyes shyly did the same. He was wearing jeans and a dark red button-up that was rolled up to the elbows. She briefly registered that he was holding flowers, but then her eyes caught on his forearms and it wasn't until he cleared his throat that she realized she'd been staring. She blinked rapidly several times and finally met his eyes. "Sorry, you just have nice…arms."

She couldn't feel too embarrassed at the look in his eyes, a combination of surprise and relief, but she still blushed deeply and coughed as she dropped her eyes from his. "God, I'm sorry," she groaned. "I promised myself I wasn't going to do anything stupid."

"You're not stupid," he replied promptly, and his warm tone welcomed her to meet his eyes again. They were shining with mirth and he shrugged. "I mean, I think I practically choked on my tongue when you opened the door so…" She tilted her head and he hurried to explain. "It's just I've never…seen you wear a dress and it's, it's a lot of skin, Sylvie, and—" His eyes widened as he realized what he'd said and he held up his hands. "Not that—I didn't mean it like that, I just, you're so beautiful and you just opened the door and, boom, there you are and…" His voice trailed off and he dropped his head back to stare at the door frame with a groan. "God, didn't I tell you I don't have good instincts with stuff like this?"

There it was again, that giddiness that seemed to frequent her body when he was around, and she smiled widely at him, trying to muster up a serious expression when he finally met her gaze again. "Joe, why would I have worn this dress if I didn't want you to look?"

He gaped at her again, his eyes so evidently telling that she'd blown all his expectations out of the water, and she finally took pity on him. "Are these for me?" she asked, reaching for the flowers.

"Um, yeah," he stammered, thrusting the bouquet of peach-colored roses toward her. "I hope you like them…I think the different colors of roses are supposed to mean something but I just liked the color so I hope they don't mean something offensive…"

She nodded seriously before meeting his gaze again. "They actually mean that you hate me."

He caught on to her sarcasm, probably from the way she couldn't entirely keep from smiling, and nodded solemnly. "Well, then, they convey my feelings perfectly."

"Oh they do, do they?" she flirted, unconsciously stepping closer to him with her words.

"Absolutely," he confirmed seriously, reaching out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind her hair. "In fact, I hate you so much I kind of want to spend all my time outside of work with you." He dropped his gaze to the floor and she reveled in the grin that suddenly split his face. "You're wearing the nail polish," he murmured, "from when…"

Sylvie shrugged awkwardly. "That was the first night we actually became friends, so I just thought…" She blushed, dropping her eyes from his to the hollow of his throat, and he cleared his throat softly as he took a step back, but not before she saw a sort of longing look in his eyes. "Would you like to put those in some water before we go?" he suggested, gesturing to the flowers.

"Great idea," she replied with a sheepish grin. "Give me just a sec." She shoved her purse and jacket into his hands and ran to the kitchen. She had no idea where the crystal vase from her mother was, so she just filled up a pitcher with water and put the roses in, taking a moment to cover her mouth with her hands and mute a squeal of excitement before returning to where Joe stood in the doorway.

Sylvie couldn't help but notice the way his eyes took her in as she walked towards him and inwardly she squealed again, outwardly settling for a wide smile as he gave back her purse and jacket. "Your things, milady," he said grandly.

"Why thank you, kind sir," she replied with a mock curtsy, allowing him to help her into her jacket and suppressing the shiver that ran through her as his fingertips ran over the bare skin of her shoulders.

"Shall we?" he asked, offering her his hand.

"We shall," she agreed seriously, lacing her fingers through his and smiling widely. He answered with a smile just as big and squeezed her fingers as he pulled her out the door.

_Stupid_, she thought,_ for thinking this was stupid._


End file.
